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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697054">#31 Alt Prompt: Stitches</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TemporaryDysphoria/pseuds/TemporaryDysphoria'>TemporaryDysphoria</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>TD's Whumptober 2020 [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lupin III</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Whump, Flashbacks, Kissing, M/M, Whumptober 2020, alt prompt: stitches, mentions of previous violence and wounds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:21:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,484</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697054</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TemporaryDysphoria/pseuds/TemporaryDysphoria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jigen has a lot of scars. They glow, the shiny scar tissue iridescent against his skin in the low light. Lupin knows the stories behind almost all of them. He’s been there for a lot of them, after all. Sometimes, after they’ve been intimate, he likes to trace them slowly, feeling the soft ridges under his fingertips. Tiny stories of where they’ve been, what they’ve done. A biographical artwork of their time together, painted on the most beautiful canvas of all. </p>
<p>I'm not doing these in order anymore because Whumptober is over. </p>
<p>Day 31: Alt Prompt Stitches.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>TD's Whumptober 2020 [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947205</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>#31 Alt Prompt: Stitches</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s nearly midnight and light from a nearby street lamp shines through the window. Lupin can’t sleep, his mind is racing at a pace close to light-speed and is threatening to fall off the rails at any minute. They’ve spent two days longer than they meant to in Paris, but Lupin knows that Jigen likes it. He likes the tiny streets, and hidden coffee shops. He likes being able to smoke while he has his morning coffee and reads his newspaper. So, they’ve stayed, despite Lupin’s misgivings, which brings them to this moment - two days overtime, when Lupin couldn’t get his eyes to stay shut if he glued them down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jigen snores beside him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not loudly, mind you. It’s less of a snore, and more of a hitch in his breath sometimes. He’s fast asleep, covers pulled down around his midriff. He’s got his arms tucked beneath his pillow, and Lupin would bet that within the next twenty minutes the covers are going to be kicked off completely. He sleeps soundly despite the dim light streaming into the room, and Lupin contemplates getting up and pulling the curtains. Maybe darkness would help slow down his synapses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jigen takes a heavy breath and kicks the rest of the covers off. He stretches his legs, flexes his toes, and then relaxes with a contented hum. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lupin feels his mouth curve into a smile. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s so gone on this man.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jigen has a lot of scars. They glow, the shiny scar tissue iridescent against his skin in the low light. Lupin knows the stories behind almost all of them. He’s been there for a lot of them, after all. Sometimes, after they’ve been intimate, he likes to trace them slowly, feeling the soft ridges under his fingertips. Tiny stories of where they’ve been, what they’ve done. A biographical artwork of their time together, painted on the most beautiful canvas of all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s two symmetrical half moons on Jigen’s chest. These might be the oldest - Lupin isn’t sure. They were there long before Lupin knew the man. Jigen says they don’t hurt, but there are times when Lupin wonders, because he, of all people, knows that not all pain is physical. Times when he watches Jigen smoking, shirtless, lifting a single hand to rub at his chest with a grimace, lost in thoughts, in memories. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His next stop is always the abdomen. He likes to connect the small dots that came from a shotgun in the first year they worked together. Jigen swore he’d never work with Lupin again after that - after they spent the better part of two hours in a shitty safehouse, picking out metal with tweezers and vodka. They weren’t sleeping together then, and Lupin had been concerned the gunman was telling the truth. Until the next morning when he found him underneath the convertible, grumbling about fuel lines and he let go of the biggest breath he’d held for years. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a large crooked scar on the right side of his belly. Lupin had been there for that one. They’d been holed up for nearly a month between jobs and Jigen had somehow managed to get appendicitis right when they had no money at all for an emergency visit. It was a tense ride to the hospital under false names, followed by another four weeks of bedrest before they fled the states. It had opened again while they were on the run, and even though they managed to get a doctor to re-stitch it, the damage was done. It was a good marker for when they kissed though. Lupin liked to run his hand over it before digging his fingers into the coarse happy trail that grew beside it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bullet holes are next, collected over the better part of 30 years. There’s one in his shoulder and two in his right thigh (Lupin was there for those), and an assortment scattered around his thighs and upper arms that he wasn’t there for - picked up from his time in the mob, and when he went freelance. Lupin likes to kiss them, one by one, thanking the fact that Jigen wears a bulletproof vest </span>
  <em>
    <span>most</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a knife scar on his left side. It’s a fond memory - not the stabbing, but what came after. They’d been working together for maybe a year, and were on the run from the local mob. Jigen rounded a corner and Lupin remembered his eyes widen with surprise as the thrown knife hit its target. Lupin had all but dragged him into the car and they’d legged it as fast as they could out of town. It was the first time he’d ever heard Jigen truly panic, speaking a mile a minute, using three languages' worth of cuss words as punctuation as he pulled the offending weapon out and tried to stem the bleeding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time they got to the safehouse over the border, the bleeding had mostly stopped and the cuss words had been reduced to one language. They’d gone to clean up and Lupin smiled fondly at the memory of Jigen realising that the knife had certainly impaled him, but by a stroke of luck it had missed anything important. Lupin's hands had been covered in fresh blood as he poked around, looking for signs of serious damage and finding none. Jigen had started laughing first. First a small chuckle, then he pressed his side again and the laughter escalated into the kind of hysterics that only an adrenaline crash can bring. Lupin had leaned back heavily against the bathroom wall with a crack, sending Jigen into further hysterics. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was the first time they kissed, and it was kind of fitting, really. That they would come together with a gunshot, and progress their partnership forward with a knife wound. The room seemed to become smaller and smaller until they were unequivocally in each other's space with no more room to move. Lupin’s hands were bloody where they gripped Jigen’s belt. The breathing was all out of sync and the coppery smell of clarat was burning Lupin’s nostrils; but it didn’t matter because it was mixed in with the rank smell of sweat and gunpowder and stale cigarettes and he’d never wanted to gravitate towards anyone more than he did in that very moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They missed,” Jigen had said softly, exhaling with a chuckle, “they fuckin’ missed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His head dropped until his forehead touched Lupin’s, like he’d lost control of the muscles in his neck to keep it upright. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They missed,” Lupin repeated, hardly believing the evidence right before his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jigen continued to chuckle, his breath tickling Lupin’s lips, his smile and laughter contagious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They missed,” Jigen said again, his nose brushing against Lupins. “They missed.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then there’s fingers digging into Lupin’s shoulder and they’ve somehow fallen together like puzzle pieces, only they don’t fit quite right yet - they haven’t worked it out just yet. Teeth crash together, there’s no rhythm, and the room is too damn small for lanky legs and the amount of elbows. When they part, Jigen’s chest is heaving, just like Lupin’s and it takes him a full minute to realise that Jigen is still very much bleeding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blo-andage,” he says, getting neither word out correctly. Jigen looks at him quizzically, before following his gaze back to his side, where the blood is still seeping out at a snail's pace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jigen winces when he stands up, but he lets Lupin bandage his side. They make it to the small hallway and then Lupin finds his back against the wall, Jigen’s thumb rubbing his cheekbone, the smell of cigarettes and blood overwhelming his senses as they try this fantastic new sensation again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Jigen opens his eyes blearily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whaddayadoin’?” he murmurs, one hand reaching out unsteadily to run through Lupin’s short hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Can’t sleep? Thought I’d watch you instead? Ended up on a trip down memory lane and somehow now I feel more in love than ever…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blo-andage,” he says instead, softly, watching the sleepy confusion morph into soft realisation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Idiot,” Jigen grumbles, but his grip tightens regardless and he pulls the thief close for a chaste kiss, much too tired to bother with anything fancy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He resists when Lupin tries to lean back, the muscles in his arm tightening against the pull. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mere,” he murmurs, eyes closed again, pulling Lupin into his side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A thumb brushes against irritated flesh on Lupin’s shoulder, making him flinch minutely. Jigen follows his fingers blindly, turning his head to place a brief kiss against the newly stitched tissue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We match,” he mumbles into skin, and it’s barely a minute before he’s out like a light once more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jigen has a lot of scars. Lupin has been there for most of them; has been the cause of a lot of them. It’s about time he got some of his own. </span>
</p>
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